


To be discovered while sleeping

by AltheaShepard



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alphinaud is clueless, F/M, Fluff, Secret Relationship, relationship discovery, things are implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27897832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltheaShepard/pseuds/AltheaShepard
Summary: Things are discovered and things are implied. And Alphinaud, poor Alphinaud, is bloody clueless.
Relationships: Urianger Augurelt/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	To be discovered while sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from but here you go!

When one was in the business of saving the world, sleep became a rare and precious thing. It was not uncommon to find the occasional adventurer sat on a bench or under a tree somewhere with their head down and snoring away, taking advantage of a brief moment’s peace to catch up on rest. Such a fact was especially true for those running hither and yon trying to prevent the next calamity while also trying to make sure primals didn’t spring up every other day to drain the land dry of aether. Sleep was an ever precious commodity and those in the Scions had learned to get it while they could until the next disaster came tearing down their door. Certain Scions, depending on the situation, had also developed a startling habit of scaring the poor soul that woke them. 

A flat stare from Thancred or Y’shtola had the messenger apologizing and tripping over themselves to deliver their message. Alisaie, perhaps unsurprisingly, had developed the habit of snarling to get them to hurry up. Alphinaud just looked endearingly confused, snapping out of it a second later once the message was given. Tataru, also somewhat surprisingly, was polite but… threatening. However, the most surprising one of them all was Urianger. Depending on what he had been woken from, the response would change. A simple nap in an armchair in the library with his chin resting on a closed fist would garner a raised eyebrow and a long suffering sigh. Asleep at the dinner table, rare as that was, would cause confusion and a bleary agreement to go to bed. Asleep at camp, paranoia about dangers lurking in the shadows.

Actual fully horizontal, under the covers, several hours of uninterrupted, deep, needs to be annoyed awake sleep? 

Thancred would like to go hide now. 

Gold eyes glared down at him as the man in question stood in the doorway of his room. His hair was a wreck, jaw clenched tight as the knuckles curled on the door frame. A robe hung on his shoulders, belted at the waist to preserve modesty but open enough at the chest that Thancred could see blossoming bruises across his skin. Bruises that looked suspiciously like they had faint teeth marks in them. A growl jerked his gaze back up to the man’s face, startled by the slight curl of a lip. 

“Is there aught I can help thee with, Thancred?” He asks, voice a deep growl and promising pain if he was awoken for something ludicrous. 

“Just… checking on you. It’s past lunch and normally you don’t sleep this late even when you return in the early hours. Though, I’m assuming Nyx must still be asleep if you are,”

He can’t help a reflexive step back as Urianger draws in a long breath, eyes closing for a brief moment in the universal sign of a prayer for patience.

“She was,” Urianger growls as his eyes open again.

It takes far longer than Thancred would like to admit for the pieces to snap into place. Teeth marks around the bruises scattered in abundance across Urianger’s chest, the mussed hair that is certainly not from a restless sleep, the half open robe. The small boot he can see on the floor just beyond Urianger’s menacing form. Dumbly, all he can say is,

“O-oh. I see,” 

The warning snarl is back,

“I’ll just… leave you two to it! And… let the others know you’re alive,” 

Receiving a grunt of acknowledgement, he scatters before the door is fully slammed shut. He can feel the heat in his face as he rushes back downstairs, not sure if he wants to laugh or sit in a corner to try and figure out the timeline. Y’shtola raises an eyebrow as he stumbles back into the common room, setting down her tea cup.

“Was he still asleep?” She asks.

Laughter it is. 

Thancred fairly collapses against the wall as he clutches his stomach and laughs, partially hysterical and partially due to some things clicking together rather quickly. Y’shtola’s eyebrows climb to her hair line as Alisaie huffs, standing by the table with her arms crossed. 

“What is he laughing about?” She asks.

Y’shtola shrugs, picking up her cup again.

“I’ve certainly no idea. Did you find N’yxaela?”

That just makes him laugh harder. 

“Oh she’s inside!” He chuckles, struggling to wrangle himself back under control.

“She just… doesn’t wish to be disturbed right now,”

Alphinaud, the Twelve bless his poor soul, looks up from his book in mild confusion.

“Is she alright?”

“Oh she’s perfectly fine. Urianger is… making sure of that,”

Alphinaud just looks more concerned, glancing at the stairs Thancred just tumbled down. Y’shtola, on the other hand, glances between the stairs and Thancred and  _ understands _ . She clears her throat, sipping her tea and visibly trying to fight down a blush. Alisaie takes a little longer, glancing between the stairs, Y’shtola and Thancred’s wiggling eyebrows. When things do fall into place she squeaks, hands slapping over her mouth as her eyes go wide. Alphinaud just glances between each of them, slowly closing his book as his concern mounts.

“Are you… certain they’re alright, Thancred?”

“Oh, yes. I am quite certain they are… taking very good care of each other,”

Y’shtola gives a very unladylike snort into her tea. 

“And… how long has…. Urianger been helping her?” Alisaie manages to squeak. 

“Oh since they came in last night.”

“Helping her with what? Are they injured? Is Nyx injured?” Alphinaud is half out of his seat as he asks, concern growing into panic.

“Oh no! No, no, no, no. Probably just some bruising. Like Urianger. Just… just bruising.” 

Alisaie has to snort that time. Alphinaud still looks unsure, half risen from his chair and watching the stairs. Y’shtola reaches over to pat his hand, a pleasant smile on her face though her ears are twitching.

“I’m quite certain they’re fine. Urianger knows how to handle Nyx when she gets… prickly. He has been handling her moods for some time now after all,” 

“Perhaps longer than we realize,” Thancred chuckles. 

“Best to leave them be until they come down of their own volition,” Alisaie says, clearing her throat. 

A blush is high on her cheeks but her eyes are glittering in mirth and, though Thancred knows she’ll deny it, a tender happiness they all must be feeling for their friends. A happiness Alphinaud would also share were he not somewhat thick headed.

“Why do I have the suspicion that we’re having two separate conversations?” He asks.

Alisaie pats her brother on the head with an indulgent smile.

“We are having exactly the conversation you think we’re having.” 

Alphianud’s eyes narrow as Y’shtola can’t hold in a tiny giggle.

“I do not believe you.”

“I’ll explain it to you when you’re older,” Alisaie says, nodding sagely and turning on her heel towards the counter.

Alphinaud splutters indignantly, snapping fully upright as he stares after his sister.

“I’m five minutes older than you!” He cries.

Alisaie waves a hand at him as F’lhaminn prepares lunch for her. Thancred can just barely catch her muttered,

“And five minutes slower on the uptake,”

Alphinaud just sputters further, storming after his sister demanding answers. Thancred settles into a chair by Y’shtola, chuckling at their antics.

“Truly, you know they are together?” Y’shtola asks quietly, her gaze soft as she looks to the stairs again.

“Hm. I had my suspicions for a while but yes. I truly think they are.” 

Y’shtola hums softly, nodding once as she reaches for a spare cup and the tea pot.

“We shall have to congratulate them next we see them. Subtly of course.”

Thancred chuckles, nodding his thanks as he takes the cup.

“Indeed. Perhaps then poor Alphinaud will understand.”

Y’shtola just chuckles in agreement. 

  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


The blankets are still warm as he climbs back into bed after bolting the door shut and tossing his robe to the end of the bed. Strong, warm arms curl around his torso again as a face buries itself in his chest. He hums in contentment, his own arms curling back around his companion, fingers curling into her hair to scratch the base of her ears. She lets out a rumbling purr, nuzzling her nose against his collar bone.

“What time is it?” She mumbles, voice thick and rough with lingering sleep.

“After lunch ‘twould seem,” 

She makes a disgruntled sound, trying to burrow impossibly closer. He can’t help the chuckle that rumbles in his chest, the fog of sleep slowly clearing from his mind after waking. Truly it was unusual for him to sleep so late, for either of them to sleep so late. It was of little surprise that someone would come knocking though he isn’t sure if it is for good or ill that it was Thancred that had apparently come across their little secret. A secret that wasn’t so little were one more observant. The others likely had their suspicions but now…

“You’re thinking too much,” Nyx grumbles, shifting enough to glare up at him. 

From the haze in her eyes, it’s clear she has little intention of moving any time soon. 

“Pray forgive me. Thou knowest I cannot sleep again once awoken.”

Blue and gold narrow at him in warning, her arms tightening around him.

“If you get out of this bed before I allow it,” she hisses, a glint of fang at her lips, “I will  _ bite _ you.”

His chest, shoulders and neck tingle at the reminder of the bruises those very teeth have recently caused. The skin of his back twitches when he shifts, reminding him of the scratches there. His own fingers catch and gently press on the bruises at her hips, causing a shiver to quake up her spine. Those pupils, narrowed in irritation, blow a little wider as the fog starts to clear.

“Is that a promise, Beloved?”

  
  
  


They don’t make it down until dinner. 


End file.
